It’s been bothering me for quite some time, but I’ve not felt the nudge, yet, to speak it. But yesterday, it happened again, and now I know that it’s time…
It came through my newsfeed, the image did. From across the river, it showed the NYC skyline, two skyscrapers rising high, standing tall–the Twin Towers, symbols of Big Apple pride.
“Imagine,” read the chilling words, “a world without Muslims.”
It was, indeed, a tragic day, the day The Two fell right down. The plot itself was spawned in hell, and wicked humans embraced it and slaughtered. Hatred, hot and black as sin, stabbed Innocence square in the heart, and we suffered.
Yes, we certainly suffered.
“Imagine a world without Muslims.”
The words, they scroll through my mind today in the safety and comfort of my home. Words and faces.
Like a Powerpoint, the pictures, they come, of an island in the Aegean Sea; of people fleeing. Of evil pursuing, the Love that awaits and the immeasurable mercy of Lord Christ, He Who gathers.
In the heart-breaking photo stream, another one appears. It’s the Klaus’, friends from a Sunday School Class. Who love Muslims.
They love them so much that they cross oceans to minister. They are colleagues and coworkers and friends. With those Muslims.
Hearing their stories upon their return of what God is doing, my heart quickens. For as Jesus is loving those Muslims abroad, those Muslims are learning to love Jesus.
The things that they’ve seen would blow your mind, strengthen faith. For when Muslims begin to love Him, everything changes. Husbands quit beating their wives, start respecting, and as men change, so do families. And towns.
In fact (oh, hear this!), when Muslims embrace Isa al-Masih, Jesus, the radicals who bomb buildings? They give up. And they leave, for the Love that’s come in drives them out. Can’t make inroads.
It was our racer’s five weeks in a refugee camp that first broke, then enlarged my own heart. For the first time, we had “skin in the game,” and an international crisis got local nad personal. In the blink of an eye. Just like that.
The man in the middle is my son, moving toward, not turning away. Just like Jesus. (Photo credit: Greg Dickert )
In the desperation and utter extremity of need, amazing things have been happening. For desperation and great need are the seedbeds for miracles, and Jesus the Christ, He appears.To the Muslims.
Jamison said that at times, the crush of the refugees in the camp would be so great that families would get separated, hands slipping. Frantic searching, pounding hearts, trembling lips calling names, and all at once in the crowd, there they were. The lost found.
Then, too, there is this, that Jesus still feeds the hungry when there’s not enough food to go ’round. During one shift with supplies running dangerously low, the volunteers gathered to pray, asking miracles. Once more, Loving Shepherd supplied, multiplied. And there was plenty of food for the throng. With some left over.
And yet this. The racers have heard that the Lord Himself has appeared to weary refugees there in that camp. In the tent.
Jesus sure does love Muslims. And so should we. But we should love homosexuals and Democrats and Donald Trump. Love them all.
Hatred is ugly from any-old-which-side, but it’s far uglier, I believe, on a “Christian.” It’s what you should expect from a sin-screwed-up world, but it shouldn’t be seen in a Christian. Lord help us!
Love doesn’t mean agreeing, but it DOES mean we’re like Him. For Papa sure put His “skin in the game.” He let His Son go tho’ He knew what we’d do in our hatred and wrath. It’s 9/11.
He doesn’t love us more. He doesn’t love us less. He loves us just like His precious Muslims.
“Imagine a world without Christians who hate, but Christians who love freely instead.”
That’s my meme.